Editor’s Note: This is a guest post from Julie B. Rose of Juliedevivre.
“So Julie—I see you quit your job, but what makes you a minimalist?”
Sarah, my host in Munich, had seen my nomadic lifestyle blog in which I talk about travel, minimalism, budgeting, and love. Last August, we sat on her balcony eating fresh bread and cheese and drinking beer, staples of the German diet.
“Well, I don’t own a lot,” I said. “Pretty much everything I own can fit in my car. I sold my house and got rid of 98% of my belongings and furniture two years ago. I don’t care about or collect material things, and I’d rather my money go towards experiences versus possessions.”
She chuckled, and gestured around the simple two bedroom, one bathroom flat she shared with her girlfriend, Lena.
“I mean, that’s not so unusual. Maybe it is in America, but that’s pretty normal for us.”
Whether she meant “us Germans,” “us frequent travelers,” or “myself and Lena,” I wasn’t positive, but she could’ve easily meant all three. Because if there was one thing I had come to notice spending most of 2022 abroad… it was that NOBODY had as much attachment to their belongings as Americans, while simultaneously having the mindset that everything is disposable.
Outside of America, “replace” is not the first impulse
I spent the first six months of 2022 in Mexico and one of the things I came to notice about Mexicans was that replacement was a last resort.
Part of that outlook could be due to the prevalence of poverty in Mexico, but I think it’s also the cultural thinking that everything has a use. Broken, torn, damaged, depleted? Fix it, glue it, sew it, buff it, fill it—Mexicans are handy, and while whatever it is might not be made perfect, it’s usable.
The U.S. is a country where anything can be ordered up and delivered in mere minutes or hours, and many people don’t typically bat an eye at the premium they pay for convenience, ease, and shiny newness. While Americans are fortunate to have such infrastructure and business ingenuity, there is so much waste.
I remember all the Amazon purchases I so carelessly and thoughtlessly ordered, each one coming on a truck, on its own trip, in its own box… resold for pennies on the dollar at the garage sale I held when I became a nomad in 2020. How everything we buy comes in layers of plastic, which we then put in another plastic bag and walk out the door. (In Mexico and much of Europe, retailers do not offer plastic bags. You bring your own, or buy a reusable tote.)
In the past, if something I enjoyed was broken, torn, slow, outdated, or damaged, I would’ve tossed it in the trash (or in a kitchen drawer to deal with later) and gone about replacing or upgrading it. Now, I glue, sew, fix, resole, DIY, and trade-in, as much as I am able to, and breathe new life into old things.
I was in Greece over much of September. In Athens, I got a haircut and left my jacket in the salon. Later that day, I flew to the Greek island of Corfu. Upset at my forgetfulness, I told some American friends how I lost the only jacket I had in Europe.
“Just buy another jacket!” they exclaimed, incredulous that it was even an issue. And indeed, there is always an H&M. But I didn’t want a new jacket—my jacket, purchased five years earlier at Target for $27, was not special in any way, but it worked just fine. In fact, I found a way for my Greek friend Vasilis to retrieve it, who was on another island but would later come to visit me in Croatia. The American reaction? Just buy another; there is no limit to what money can buy. I’ve come to resist that as often as I can.
The pursuit of bigger, better, and more is an American invention
When I was 22 and I got my first professional job making $33,000 a year in Minneapolis, the first thing I did was go to the Toyota dealership and buy a brand new $22,000 car, debt that essentially matched my take-home pay for the year and saddled me with a 5-year loan.
So ingrained in our culture is the concept to mark personal success with external indicators, that I had to get a second part-time job and work 55 hours a week just to pay all my bills and eat, with my $750/month rent and my $450/month auto loan payment, plus insurance.
Advertisers and Hollywood have told this lie to Americans our entire lives: bigger is better, more is better, and better is better—that we willingly trap ourselves in an endless work-spend-collect cycle for our entire lives.
The college debt to get the good degree, the good job, and the good salary. The auto debt to get the freedom of the open road and to be stylish and safe at the same time. The mortgage debt to have the big house and the garage and the yard and the rooms and closets to hold all the things we’ll soon buy to fill it all up.
In many other countries, even the wealthy understate their wealth. They work to live, not live to work. When people are less obsessed with making money and collecting material things, they prioritize rest, leisure, time with family, take their vacations, and retire with “enough” instead of working until they’re dead.
Non-Americans are less attached to their living space and their belongings
As I gallivanted across Europe, posting about the sights, sounds, and tastes from Slovenia to Hungary to Turkey to Montenegro, a follower on Instagram commented: “What is your budget for this trip?? You must be spending $300 a day on hotels, taxis, and restaurants!!!”
I wasn’t. In 2022, I spent an average of $74 a day, on everything—that includes lodging, food, health insurance, personal care, and transportation.
And in the 16 weeks I spent traveling Europe last fall and late summer, I stayed with friends, friends of friends, or complete strangers nearly half of the time. The level of hospitality and welcome I was met with was absolutely unparalleled.
I didn’t know Sarah before I stayed with her. She was a friend of a friend I had stayed with in Salzburg, Austria, and at that friend’s request, Sarah had graciously agreed to host me in Munich. Sarah and Lena were also going out of town a few days later, and she offered that I stay and water their plants while they were gone.
“We’ve done a lot of traveling,” she noted. “We understand how it is.”
“How it is,” is trying to make each dollar last so a traveler can practice the “experiences over possessions” mantra as long as possible. Summer backpacking trips, gap years, and sabbaticals are a long-time tradition of Europeans in their 20s, 30s, and beyond—so every host has likely been a traveling guest at some point in time. Understanding that accommodations can be one of the most expensive aspects of traveling—I met many Europeans who opened their home to a wayward traveler such as me without a second thought.
In the 15 months I spent traveling the United States in 2020 and 2021, I was met with far less hospitality. Friends and acquaintances across the states asked to grab dinner and catch up while I was traveling, but far fewer invited me to stay. I thought back on the times some years ago when I rented out my house on Airbnb, and the judgment my American friends shared about strangers sleeping in my bed and cooking in my kitchen.
“Who cares?” I laughed it off. “Same bed, different sheets. And it’s not like I take my cookware with me when I die.” Years later, most of my cookware would be sold or given away.
I can’t pinpoint exactly why fewer Americans were likely to let an acquaintance stay—but it could have to do with the fact that fewer Americans are international travelers (thus not having been on the other side of the coin)—or that we are so accustomed to convenience, that a traveler in our space and among our things is an inconvenience.
Summary
Is this article an indictment of the American way and our popular Western choices? I don’t mean it to be. But we would be blind not to see we are a society that over-consumes: commercialism and materialism, food and alcohol addictions, vanity and appearances, and a host of other deadly sins. I may be a nomad living on $74 a day, with only the things that fit in my SUV… but I have enough—enough belongings to be comfortable, and enough to survive and thrive.
A big house invites more stuff, and if something isn’t “perfect,” it’s easy to just buy another… but we trade hours of life for the things that we buy. Therefore, we can also trade the hours we work and the things we don’t buy for our time back: time with family, time away from the rat race, and time for personal endeavors.
I hope that as a nation we learn to be more conscious of our purchase decisions, and reduce our tendency to waste and disregard. It’s good for the environment, and it’s good for ourselves.
And instead of measuring net worth, dollars, square footage, and brand names, how about we count the years… and measure “wealth” in freedom: freedom from debt, freedom from an indulgence of material things, freedom from a time- and mental energy-sucking job, and the freedom to spend our time on this earth doing what we want, with whom we want.
***
Julie B. Rose is a full-time nomad and minimalist who travels the world with her dog Penny. She shares her experiences at juliedevivre.com, where she aims to inspire and empower positive lifestyle change. You can also find her on Instagram or pick up her eBook, Money and Mindset: How to Take a Sabbatical.
Gen says
Loved Germany. Much simpler at least in 80s and 90s and my German friend live simpler here too. Homes then weren’t built with closets. You bought a wardrobe to store your stuff and when you’re paying for storage makes you think. Same with kitchen. Loved going to the market. Then Sundays were not for shopping. Very much community oriented. Generations gathered. What we used to do. Coming back to US first thing noticed was tons of billboards along the road and trash. And I could no longer walk from village to town with a community trail system. People lived in community. Barns attached to restaurants. The land was for everyone. I built a tiny house. And have down sized so much. One thing I always disliked about army. Is by time kids grown we got the big house on base. What’s the point? Yes I know it’s a rank thing but I hated living in 3200 sf for 2 when young families could’ve used the space.
Gen says
I couldn’t be full time nomad. But I do love the short term rental life/concept. Allowing to go somewhere and live as local or tourist for short time in multiple places. My airbnb renters are respectful so far. Love tiny home communities also.
Pepper says
Rich minimalist? Spending $27,375 a year? Bro they’re as broke as the rest of us. Or did you miss the fact that all of their worldly possessions fit in their suv? They just chose to reimagine how they live their life. in America it takes 100k to live American style comfortable with the big house, nice car, debt payments included and it’s barely enough for a childless couple to get by in some states. Across the ocean, life is much more affordable and and social outlook is different.
Danny says
Wow thank you I’ve been a minimalist all my life I’m 62 years old my grandmother back in the 60s taught me how to do this stuff I really appreciate your article hope there are more minimalists cuz it’s good for our climate and our environment and we don’t throw so much trash away so our landfills don’t get filled up good going young people keep this up you don’t need to be wealthy and with materials and just be wealthy with your person thank you
Ellen Scott Grable says
I live very minimally in a studio in France. I rent it out in summer and go on my own trips. My American friends all ask it I refurbished it to my taste. No need. It has quality nice furniture suitable for guests and sleep 3. I like looking at things and knowing I have no where to put them.
Lorraine says
I love to travel and enjoy new experiences, but I sure do miss my own bed when I’m gone and my sweet puppy Dexter too!
Been Working on the minimalism piece….it is extremely challenging when you live with others who are borderline hoarders.😑
Shelly says
I grew out of minimalism. If you grow up with money, I think you can do the “love to be poor now” thing in you’re l 20s/30s and preach about it. It’s the opposite when you grow up poor. I like my things now. Still quality of quantity, but shiny things rock.
Giorgio says
I agree on virtually everything you wrote, except that I don’t see Europe as the opposite of America in this respect. I have seen friends back home in Italy doing exactly like you with their first paycheck – turning it into the downpayment for a brand new VW Golf or so. Many other examples you give resonate with my life experience in Europe (then again I understand that Americans go further: more resources available, and more waste).
Arnulfo Martinez Garcia says
Thank you for the article. It sums to the examples that inspire me on my transformational journey. -Gracias- for that.
Being a mexican being born and raced in the border with the egemon of our times, I think that Western consumerism is the cancer made a system, preached by the middle and upper classes and incepted in the lower classes as false aspiracionism.
The cancer has permeated quickly and faster among the mexicans that live and migrate in/to the cities but also spreading fast among the poor that escaping their poverty migrate to the Unites States, get lost on their moral compass, missinterprete pursue of hapiness with “wanting, making, needing” and then sending and bringing their new wealth all of a sudden among the family left, trying to substitute time shared with money and gifts to a population that can’t handle that, with all the social problems that brings along (resentment, families teared appart, abandoned old parents, women and child, lonelyness, etc).
The phenomenon of “new rich” is clearly seen in the political scene in Mexico too, where after 80 years of center and right wing parties (resented now by the loss of power inflicted by themself for ambition and not caring of the word “public servant”) now that a populist system arrived, the “new” politicians and burocrats, religiously preach the end of misery and corruption, and a new down of right doing, and honesty; while many of them (not all but many) are “pockerface” politicians from the old parties as well as resented and unexperiences poor class politicians that now with power arrive to deplete the governemt archs, destroying the recently emerged structure of public resources audits, blinding us all on the use of those public moneys and telling us to trust on them blindly because the poor are the gifted.
Won’t mention the earth limited resources depleted, because in Mexico nobody, no upper, no middle, no poor seems to care or even believe in that, like blind people on the shore facing a tsunami that is starting to whipe us, while everybody -following the american exceptional model- are looking at their screens selecting the new gadget in Amazon.
Please, forgive any ortographic mistake ;-)
Loue says
No next generation is really minimalist and selfish. As an early boomer. 1946, my nuclear family and grandparents, aunts, uncles cousins and friends did sew, garden, remake and redo. We shared and borrowed things such as the saxophone from my cousin so I could be in high school band. Education was valued to learn better ways to do things and enjoy the blessings of goid family and friends. Very grateful to still have a husband (57 years married), daughter, son-in-law (27 years married) and two young adult grandchildren. Grateful fir the people who work to maintain planes, schools, hospitals so some entitled minimalists can travel. My hubby and I have been on mission trips, travel with Rotary and, yes, some bucket list items such as having set foot on all 8 continents. New Zealand is the land version of its own tectonic plate, i.e. continent.
Schatzi says
In 1979 I walked through Europe with 23 others from a college in NH. I was 19 and it was a life changing experience. We lived in one big tent while walking 15-20 miles a day for four months. All my life since then, I’ve been trying to return to that simplicity. Presently, I live in a 16’x20’ off grid house with two large dogs and two cats. It’s comfortable and I reuse everything. I cut my own hair, grow as much food as I can, compost, dumpster dive for materials and I’ve never owned a new car. I go to thrift shops for clothing I don’t have to live this way, but I choose to. I worked in a miserable job for 30 years. Consumerism and pollution from that will get us in the end. The more stuff you have, the more worries.
Come and house sit for me, with the pets, in upstate NY, so I can go on an adventure!
Randee says
Great story! I did something very similar 1978-1979. Took a year off after graduating college! Traveled to Europe and Israel. Knew I’d never have a full year off again (till I retired). Best thing I ever did. Five years ago I tried to change my consumerism and high carbon footprint lifestyle. I try and reuse or upcycle everything, only buy new clothes when they truly wear out. Seems to be working well. I’ll post a full story separately.
Julie Rose says
Was that the camino? Because wow, that’s really going the distance! Absolutely agree with the more stuff, the more to worry about. I really appreciate your perspective, and your place in upstate NY sounds lovely!! I hope you follow the journey at juliedevivre.com.
Jennifer says
I’d love to pet sit for you one day! :)
K. Bachman says
Well written article. We truly miss out on alot on a personal level when we live in a throw away culture. Two biggies are gratitude and creativity/resourcefulness. It is personally empowering to ‘make due’, to repair, and to solve a problem with what you have on hand. And it expands your happiness and sense of connection when you appreciate what’s in front of you rather than chasing ‘better’. Just try it and see.
Marietta Sherwood says
I wish you the best in your journey n adventure in your travels as you discover n unfold more of yourself on what is more important in life to be happy.Blessings from a grandma.